Remember the Time

I didn't want to keep writing about him since he made it clear he didn't want me thinking about him anymore but Timehop reminded me that on this day, three years ago, Emmett came back into my life.

....

I hadn't heard from him in six months and a friend had invited me to stay with her Tokyo for a few weeks. Airfare was cheap and I hopped at the chance. I posted on Facebook that I was planning on being in Japan for 3 weeks; making plans with friends of mine teaching English there across the country. At this point, Emmett had left six months prior and I hadn't yet heard from him - and didn't know if I would.

And then suddenly, he was active on Facebook - which he hadn't been for the six months he'd been gone. He hadn't contacted me yet so I was upset. I updated my status to "Well, I guess that's settled." - a  slight at him, seeing as he was still alive and living his life and obviously couldn't care about me. He commented on my status that "Things tend to settle during flight." I ignored it. He was always kind of snarky and cheeky.

Then he sent me a message. A mutual friend had told him I was coming to Japan and, if I wasn't too busy, he was hoping I would come and stay with him; he'd love to see me again and show me where he lived. I was angry and apprehensive about it. How could you just turn up out of the blue and expect me to be ok? Expect this to be ok? I said, well, I supposed I did have some time unaccounted for that I could stay a few days. I reserved my final week in Japan to stay with him in a tiny mountain town called Yokote, four hours north of Tokyo.

......

I had spent the weekend drinking and laughing with friends in Osaka and Hiroshima. And on a dreary Sunday afternoon, I boarded a Shinkansen back to Osaka, then to Tokyo, and further on to a place I'd never heard of called Omagari, in Akita Prefecture, where Emmett said he would pick me up. It took 9 hours start to finish. Three trains and three climate changes and I was there. It was late and I'd taken my contact lens out on the train and put on my velour sweatpants, hair in a pony tail. I hadn't showered since we'd spent all night in a karaoke bar and I passed out on a friend's couch. But I was nervous and my keitai had died and now here I was with the train doors opening into this frigid climate.

Omagari.

My backpack on and giant rolling suitcase in one hand, I stepped out onto the platform. I looked up and I could see his silhouette looking down on me from the observation deck. I nervously got on one escalator and then another, heart beating out of my chest, fumbling with my rail pass for the gate agent as I saw him waiting patiently on the other side for me. He looked different, older; his face acne scarred by the climate change. Once I cleared the gate, we half hugged and he awkwardly sought out an elevator. We looked at each other stone faced, trying to hide our nervousness, and loaded my things into his Saab; an interesting choice of car for someone teaching English in Japan. Most of my friends drove tiny kei cars; cheap little aluminum boxes - but somehow, this suited him, suited his personality. He would have driven something like this in the States if he made enough, I suppose. Then again, he drove a Honda Civic when he was living in Ohio when I'd known him then. Maybe this was an upgrade.

He fumbled with the GPS on his phone, trying to figure out how to get back. He almost ran a red light and I yelled at him. We stopped at a diner for pancakes and coffee. (Well, I got pancakes. He just got soup.) And then, a short while later, we'd arrived at his apartment complex which was named Moulin Rouge - although far from the French landmark. I began to unpack my things: presents I'd brought for him like Burt's Bees lotion and Kraft Mac & Cheese powder. I told him I was going to take a shower. I washed all my parts and shaved from head to toe. I'd been waiting for this moment for months. I wanted everything to be perfect. To feel his kiss, his touch, his embrace again. I'd been waiting. And I emerged in my pajamas and we sat on his couch - on opposite sides of his couch - and talked about my journey.

And then, like two high schoolers, we were suddenly in a ferocious lip lock. Our glasses clinked together comically and we stopped and threw them off and continued to kiss, to ravage each other. I straddled him and let my wet hair envelope his pockmarked face. I kissed his soft lips as his mustache tickled underneath my nose and then he took me and threw me down onto the futon on the floor. He kissed my neck and took off my shirt and began to kiss my breasts, down my stomach, pulling down my pants which slid off my hips that were thin from being worn out waiting for him. I was naked and exposed and I just wanted what I'd been waiting so long for. He kissed my inner thighs.

I flipped him and mounted him and removed his shirt, undid his belt, unzipped his pants. I just couldn't wait and I took him into my mouth and he teased, moving his cock away from my lips. I flicked my tongue and he'd jerk himself back just out of reach, then I'd take him deep again until he just couldn't take it anymore. He cut to the chase, pulling me by my arms up to face him, kissing me passionately before he flipped me on to my back, and then entered me. And we fucked and fucked and made up for those past six months with every thrust and scratch and scrape and pulse and grip. We came together, just like we always had. And we fell asleep in each other's arms.

I woke up the next morning to his alarm going off for work and the first thing he did was spoon me from behind and kiss my shoulder. Then he got up and showered and I watched him get dressed for work, wishing that day could be my every day. He kissed me goodbye, told me there was soda in the fridge and a key for the locker for the bicycle if I wanted to go out, but he'd be back at noon. I woke up and made some eggs and uploaded pictures and watching some TV and then took a nap.

He woke me up by whispering in my ear that I probably shouldn't leave the door unlocked. I gasped.

.....

By the end of the week, I'd gotten so used to him that I wished I hadn't had to leave. But Emmett got dressed for work and we drove back to the train in minimal silence and I got my ticket and he hugged and kissed me swiftly even though I could hear him starting to choke up and I boarded my train back to Tokyo in tears behind my sunglasses.

And I cried all the way to the airport and in the airport and on the plane until I fell asleep because I knew that this was the man that I was supposed to love and spend the rest of my life with and I knew deep down somewhere that something was going to prevent it from happening.

.....

And it turns out that something was me.

The Final Countdown

Soon I won't be a "twenty-something" anymore; I am on the verge of 30. And then what happens?

My life is going to be perfect. Everything is going to magically fall into place and fix itself and I'll be happy and I won't need this blog anymore. Because that's what happens when you're in your thirties, right?

People are getting engaged and married and having babies and here I still am, still trying to sort out the mess of the last decade and can't seem to see the light at the end of that tunnel. I was told that it does get better once you turn thirty, but I feel like it's in such an ambiguous way, like when they do those "It Gets Better" videos for the bullied kids. I'm still living alone, waking up hungover, eating junk for dinner, pretending to give a shit, letting others believe this charade I'm putting on.

"Oh, I don't even know if I ever want to get married. I can't even fathom what love really is because every time I thought I had it, it was all just bullshit. Maybe love doesn't even really exist - not in my universe, anyway. I just can't see myself living with someone and settling down and doing boring stuff and merging our things and our personalities and our lives and our groceries."

That's all my bullshit. My wall. My defense mechanisms.

I watched this week's episode of GIRLS and I realized more and more how much I can relate to Hannah, when she says, "Please don't tell anyone this, but I want to be happy. I realized I'm not different. I want what everyone wants. I want what they want. I want all the things. I just want to be happy", because these are the same things that I say to myself; these are the same things that I feel.

I self-deprecate and I engage in behaviors that aren't good for me. I keep people at distances even when I want to draw them so close and so near to me. I try not to let people in and let them get under my skin and then when they do, when I feel things, when I hurt like normal people are supposed to, I'm afraid and offended and scared and brush them off, shut back down, shut them out. Because I want to feel things and I want to let people in and I'm not sure I remember how. I've had people playfully call me a cold-hearted bitch before, and maybe they've been right all along. Maybe everyone else can see it but me.

........

My friend and I had a conversation about how we let the wrong people fill certain voids in our lives because we hope the right people will come along and take their place. Sometimes I feel like I'm just cramming all these people into this void to stop an open, gaping wound; staunch the hemorrhaging of all my emotions. I spring a leak and then just use someone else to plug the hole. It becomes a never-ending cycle and I'm never happy.

Emmett told me that I was never going to love anyone until I learned to love myself. He said even if I got my dream job and found the perfect guy and moved back to NY, I'd still be miserable and he's probably right. Everyone makes it sound so easy, "loving yourself". I don't even know if I know what it means to love. When was the last time I felt it? I thought it was with Emmett, but he told me that he didn't love me, was never going to love me. And I look back and try to think who else might have loved me once before? Did I know? Did I remember how that felt? How I could try and close my eyes and go deep inside myself to search for that feeling's warmth and bring it to the surface, smell it, drink it in, use it to satiate this hunger. Use it to help me remember and revive the love that is supposed to be inside me, inside all of us.

..........

So here's to the home stretch, the final year before I turn 30. The quest for me to see if all the rumors are true. That life can get better. That I can learn to love myself and others again. That I can be that emotion that has evaded me for so long: Here's to the pursuit of Happiness.

(Not) Thinking of You

You told me we’re not doing this anymore and so, I’m not thinking about you.

I’m not thinking about the first time we met in Grand Central Station and how your eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas. I’m not thinking about the way you pressed me up against a window in a Manhattan hotel room and kissed me for the first time. How the sparks between us were so intense they could have kept Times Square lit for a year. I’m certainly not thinking about how intensely in sync we are in bed together or how we came together almost every single time.

Another thing I’m not thinking about is how I met you in Cincinnati for your 30^th birthday. How we stuck our heads in those silly cutouts at that festival or how I laid my head on your shoulder while we watched them feed otters at the aquarium. I’m not thinking about how you held me close and told me you never wanted me to leave Ohio. Or how that café we had dinner at was playing The Smiths. I’m not thinking about how you held me in the pool as I wrapped my legs around your waist and my arms around your neck and how you kissed me and I felt like this was the first time in a long time that I knew I loved someone again.

I’m not thinking about seeing your silhouette looking down at me from the waiting room of a Japanese train station as I got off a 9 hour train ride to see you. Or how our glasses banged together like two teenagers when we finally got up the nerve to just thrust our mouths at one another after months of being apart, and how we tossed them off comedically and continued making out. I’m absolutely not thinking about how you woke up the next morning and the first thing you did was put your arms around me from behind and kiss my shoulder before you went to work.

I’m also definitely not thinking about how, when I was lying in my underwear on a bed in a hotel in Houston, you emerged from the bathroom, calmly walked past me, ran your fingers up my torso, went to the door to put on the “Do Not Disturb” sign and proceeded to ravage me sweetly. Or how you adjusted the flower in my hair with the utmost care so that you could see it head on. How at midnight on New Year’s you said, “Well, I guess we’re supposed to kiss now”, pulled me to your waist, parted your lips and placed them softly against mine. I’m not thinking about how when I said I’d miss you, you replied “I never miss you; I have good aim.”

I’m not thinking about the hours we spent talking on the phone or the IMs or the webcam chats or the sexting or the emails we’d send each other at work. About all the smiles and laughs and hugs and forehead kisses and handholds. Or the hours I spent crying over you and missing you from 9000 miles away. Or about the phone call you made from the airport in Minnesota where you told me you were no good for me, that I was too smart, that I should find someone better.

I’m not thinking about any of those things at all.

Because we’re not doing this anymore.

The One

Everyone around you is coupled up and you feel like you’re the only one left standing. They are cohabitating and getting engaged and getting married and you’re buying frozen dinners for one at the grocery store. You contemplate if you’ll ever find “the one”, that person who makes everything in the world make sense. Who gets your obscure jokes and likes that worn out grey band t-shirt you wear to bed sometimes. Who doesn’t mind sitting in the aisle seat all the time and who lets you eat the last donut. You wonder if maybe that person has been in your life all along and you’ve just accidentally passed them over, so you run through your mental catalog of all the people from your past who could possibly be “the one”. 

The boy who you had a torrid and short-lived love affair with; who came to visit at your dorm while surviving a 9 hour trip on the Chinatown bus during a snowstorm. Who stayed on the phone with you late at night while you read poetry to him and he told you how much your prose turned him on. How you took his virginity late one night in his room at his mother’s house on Staten Island. How he held you in the living room after watching Menace to Society, and said I love you in the lights of the Christmas tree. And then how he broke your heart and said it was all a lie; that you didn’t really love him, that he was a tortured soul. And yet, you still held this connection, this bond, on and off again for so many years, finally reuniting recently during Thanksgiving. Older, wiser, a little worn for haul – but he had sent you a text reminding you that you’d promised to marry him when you turned 30. You lol’d and wrote back saying, hold on, I’m not quite there yet.

A boy you met through an Internet dating site that you went on a few mediocre dates with and when he kissed you, it felt like kissing your brother. It was underwhelming and there was never any chemistry, but you still hung out and you still slept in his bed, but you never let him see you naked. And both of you would text each other to hang out every few months; you’d wonder if things would change next time you saw him, but it was always a well-worn friendship and never anything more. 

And then there’s the one that you thought was “the one”. Who was quick witted with even more obscure jokes and who never let you wear that grey band t-shirt to bed because you were too busy making love and falling asleep naked spooning each other. Who showed you the best and worst of yourself back to you like a mirror and kept urging you to grow into the person you are one day going to be. Who started making everything make sense in your life until the day you realized that you were never doing the same things in return for him. The one who told you that he couldn’t love you because love needs to be nourished and fed, even though he was the one nourishing and feeding your love of him for three years. 

None of these guys are “the one”. 

Maybe you’ve met “the one” already and maybe you haven’t. Maybe “the one” doesn’t exist at all. And so what? Who cares? For now, just be the only one you need.

Butterflies

I really ought to apologize to him. I lied when I said "It's not you, it's me" because it was him.

After kissing so many frogs, I finally found a prince. After all those duds, he made me see sparks.

He was the first boy that I'd kissed in a long time that made me feel butterflies.


And it scared the shit out of me.

He was so nice and sweet and kind. He made me nervous and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself with him. Like I would just let the emotions take over; like I really could have fallen in love.

I tried to play it off and make excuses, talk myself out of it, date someone else. But the whole time I was with #2, I couldn't stop thinking about #1. Running into him in hallways, dreaming about passionately making out with him on their shared couch, fantasizing about sneaking into his bed in the middle of the night.

.......

"Shhh!" I'd put my finger to his lips as I slipped between his sheets, then kiss him softly right in the area between his ear and his cheek, running my hand strongly across his firm chest. I pictured his arms embracing me gently but kissing me firmly, holding me close and making me feel safe; like I was the only girl in the world.

.........

Maybe all my excuses were right. Maybe it's better that we were never together.

He would have treated me like a Princess and I turned around and treated him like a Frog. 

And I never deserved him, anyway.

Win Some, Lose Some

There are words inside my head, struggling to get out. I’ve been trying, but they just don’t seem to want to come. I have demons inside me too that are battling each other. They seem to have no problem slipping past from time to time. But the darker ones, the deeper rooted ones; those are the ones that are the worst. They fight and control me. They are the ones keeping the words inside because they don’t want the truth to come out.

........

We’re all battling something, hiding something, running from something. Most of the times, it’s from our own selves, from our past, our present, our future. We run from the things that scare us and from the things that bring us joy. We hide the person we used to be from the person we want everyone to think that we’ve become. We battle the guilt we feel over doing things, or not doing things, or not doing things the way we wish we had done them, or over the way we did something that did not lead to lifting this guilt.

I’m an Asshole. I’m selfish, egotistical, a sociopath; self-obsessed and un-remorseful. I’m opportunistic.  I do things without thinking of the consequences. I hurt other people without thinking of their feelings. And then I feel guilty about the pain I’ve caused, about the ways I’ve fucked up, about the people I’ve forced out of my life. 

I’ve left a wake of boys and men in my path for 10 years and I have nothing to show for it. 

But why?

I don’t have daddy issues, but I am an only child. I was never given everything and anything I wanted though. My parents made me work for everything I’ve ever had. I could blame the one person who ruined my entire life for me, but it didn’t just start there. I was doing this long before that – this erratic behavior - sometimes manipulation of their feelings, sometimes manipulation of my own. Shutting myself off and acting like I don’t give a fuck one second, then crying and pleading because I realized that I’m ruining, have ruined, a good thing. 

At first, maybe it was just boredom. The first boy I ever dated had an obsession with video games and became more interested in them than with me. So what did I do? I went out and found someone to be obsessed with me instead, while still dating the video game lover; an entire summer spent sneaking around behind his back. And then, when my new paramour ‘cheated’ on me with another girl, I was appalled and cut off contact with him; even though he was doing precisely the same thing I was doing to someone else. Then, he told me he loved me and I threw it back in his face. “You don’t love me. You don’t even know what love is.” And went back to vie for the video game lover’s attention.

I used them both to make myself feel better about myself, and in the end, I was just alone and felt miserable. Several years later, I even found myself with my paramour again, repeating the same cycle. I was obsessed over another boy who wouldn’t give me the time of day – and once again, he was there. So I led him on and baited him, and then dropped him like a bad habit once I had the attention of object of my desires. What a vicious cycle.

I want things my way, on my terms. Seems like a simple request, no? But I guess it borders on selfishness, wanting someone only when you want them, and the way you want them. Pushing them away when they’re too close, then struggling to draw them to you to get the attention you crave when it’s lacking. Pointing out all their flaws, the things that disgust you, finding reasons to leave or to not get close – then grasping at straws for the things you liked and loved, all the good points and great moments you shared while you’re watching them walk away. 

I thought maybe my destructive, abusive relationship may have been the root of this – and ok, maybe it can take the credit for some of it. He had played the game right back to me and he was better at it and he won. He could be blamed for the trust issues, for the not wanting to let anyone get close, to see the real you, for fear that they’ll realize you’re a disappointment and leave. That they’ll see those demons peeking out of your closet, find out who the real you really is, and despise it. Because everyone you let get close to you once at one point in time all turned on you and left you cold. Men who you’ve dragged through the mud, who would have gone to the ends of the Earth and back for you, but you never even bothered to give them the chance that they didn’t even know they never had. You played with their heart strings while playing apathetic.

And then finally, he came along. A person who you didn’t have to play games with, someone who finally understood you as you are and called you out on all your bullshit when you tried to play the game with him once and he wasn’t having it. And you didn’t have to fake it this time, the feeling was real. But he left – but not because of you – but he was still gone. And you reunited a few times and got closer, feelings grew deeper, and you thought to yourself – this is it, the thing people talk about all the time: 

Real Love. Soul mates. A partner for life. 

And you told him you loved him so because you swear you’d see it sparkling in his eyes whenever he looked at you, whenever he smiled that smile he only smiled for you. He did the things that no one else ever did, paying attention to all the tiniest details, and listening, really and truly listening to you. Caring for you, taking everything into consideration that made it worth it and you wanted to reciprocate all those things in the greatest way you knew how. 

And so you said those Three Little Words – words that you had uttered as a teenager without knowing the meaning, as a love sick college girl in the heat of the moment, on a dark winter night with someone you had once thought could have been the one, over the window of a car door while coerced by someone who had played the game back and won, and that one other time where you didn’t even mean it at all - and this time, you really, really meant those words this time. 

But he didn’t say them back. And then, the walls caved in all around you. You’d been waiting so long. It felt so right – how could this not be right!? 

It was time to play the game again. 

You hoped maybe if you played the game long enough, you’d find another him one day. Maybe you’ll find another one of him one day. I mean, you will right? You have to, right? 

So it was back to a string of dates with boys who didn’t make your heart skip a beat the same way, who didn’t send a charge through your body with a single kiss, whose eyes showed you something deeper when you looked into them. Try one on, see if it fits. Don’t like it, but buy it anyway. Regret it later but you’ve already cut off the tags so you can’t take it back now. You wanted to try and like them, to give them a chance instead of always holding them up to him for comparison. You really were trying. You were.

And then you found two pairs that you thought both looked great. One fit one way, and the other fit the other way. You would never be able to wear them to the same things; they both served different purposes and would have been great for different occasions. The first pair was newer, fit tighter, were the kind you wouldn’t want to take out of the closet unless it was important. So you left the first pair in the closet and bought the second pair. The second was more comfortable, an everyday kind of wear; reliable but you over wore them and took them for granted. You kept trying to find problems with the second pair that would give you a reason to wear the first pair, secretly lusting over the first pair, wondering what it would be like to wear those all the time instead. So, you wanted to see if you could try the first pair on for size and the second pair caught you. And then, you were left with none. 

You tried to go double or nothing and came up empty handed. You were greedy and selfish and now, you were alone again. And now you feel guilty. The second pair was great and was really starting to be your favorite. You had fun together. They complimented you and made you feel confident, alive, amazing, like you could have done anything. You could have taken on the world with the second pair by your side. They almost made your forget all about him. As much as you tried to fool yourself into thinking that you would never love them as much as you loved him, you were warming up to the idea. It wasn’t quite the same but it was a different kind of comfort, a different kind of fit. Like switching from a boot cut to a straight leg: They both looked great on you and hugged your curves in all the right places; they just gave you two totally different looks. They could have been your favorite.

I know I can’t make amends for the hurt that I’ve caused in the past, but if I could apologize knowing that my voice would be heard, and that they would accept my apologies, I would. I don’t want it to feel forced or feel like it’s falling on deaf ears. I want it to be genuine and real and honest. I want the other person to accept that I am trying to change here and give me that chance. But I think I’m past the point of repair.

You can’t make someone love you, but you sure as hell can make someone stop. And you can’t make someone stop hating you, but you sure know how to make them start.

I don’t know how to change the past but I think I know how to change my future. I don’t want to play the game anymore. I want to actively change my behavior to avoid this kind of destruction. I want to live without fear of being hurt because I can’t get past my past. I want to give you a chance and I want you to give me one too. Because we all deserve second chances in life – and I think it’s time I got mine.

V-Day Mixtape

Oh Valentine's Day - the day we live for, or the day we live to forget. No matter what your feelings are on this holiday that was completely contrived by the greeting card companies, and no matter what your relationship status, I have compiled a few playlists to help ease or elevate your mood (depending on your situation) this February 14th.

The Unrequited Mix - For those of us who are soulfully pining over someone who probably doesn't even know that we're alive

Aaliyah - 4 Page Letter
Head Automatica - Beating Hearts Baby
Fergie - Clumsy
Ashlee Simpson - Fall in Love with Me
Michael Cera & Ellen Page - Anyone Else But You
Incubus - Stellar
Letters to Cleo - I Want You to Want Me
LL Cool J - Hey Lover ft. Boyz 2 Men
Mariah Carey - Fantasy
Leona Lewis - Bleeding Love
Dashboard Confessional - Stolen
Natasha Beddingfield - I Wanna Have Your Babies
Karina Pasian - Just Can't Find The Words
David Archuleta - Crush
Amerie - One Thing
Ryan Adams - Wonderwall
Janet Jackson - If I Was Your Girl
The Cardigans - Lovefool

The Over It Mix- When you've had it with your loved one, or former loved one

Mariah Carey - Shake it Off
Maroon 5 ft Rihanna - If I Never See Your Face Again
Keyshia Cole - I Just Want it to be Over
Blu Cantrell - Hit Em Up Style
Keyshia Cole - Let it Go
Aly & AJ - Potential Break Up Song
Ashanti - Unfoolish Remix
Justin Timberlake - Cry Me A River
Maroon 5 - Makes me Wonder
Keyshia Cole - I Should've Cheated
Ashlee Simpson - No Time for Tears
Danity Kane - Damaged
Christina Aguilera - Fighter
Ciara - Like a Boy
Beyonce - If I Were a Boy
Gilette - Mr Personality
Good Charlotte - I Don't Wanna be in Love
Jaheim - Put that Woman First
Kelly Clarkson - Behind These Hazel Eyes
Kelly Clarkson - Since You've Been Gone
Missy Elliot - Toyz
Mya - Case of the Ex
Mya - Movin On
Timbaland ft One Republic - Apologize
Rihanna - Breakin Dishes
Ashlee Simpson - Surrender
Black Eyed Peas - Don't Phunk With My Heart
Brandy - What About Us?
Cassie - Official Girl
Britney Spears - Womanizer
Britney Spears - Why Should I Be Sad?
Jennifer Hudson - Spotlight
Jennifer Lopez - I'm Gonna be Alright
Taylor Swift - You're Not Sorry
Carrie Underwood - Before He Cheats

The Back Seat Mix - For a foggy windowed good time (or inside if it's too cold)

Bobby Valentino - Tell Me (remix)
Marques Houston - Naked (remix)
Justin Timberlake - My Love
Ludacris - What's Your Fantasy
Ginuwine - My Pony
No Doubt - Making Out
Day 26 - All I Want is You
Mariah Carey - Touch My Body
Rihanna - Push Up On Me
Britney Spears - Breathe On Me
Britney Spears - And Then We Kiss (Junkie XL remix)
Snoop Dogg - Sexual Eruption
LL Cool J - Doin It
Cassie - Me & You
Duran Duran - Come Undone
Britney Spears - Phonography
Jay - Z ft Pharrell - Fuck All Nite
Boyz II Men - I'll Make Love To You
Missy Elliot - One Minute Man
Panic! At The Disco - Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off
Lil Kim ft 50 Cent - Magic Stick
50 Cent - Amusement Park
Lil Wayne - Lollipop
Dru Hill - Got to Get It


The Happy Together Mix - Everything's perfect and happy and roses and sunshine! You're in LURVVVVVVVVE (lol)

50 Cent & Olivia - Best Friend
LL Cool J ft Amerie - Paradise
Natasha Beddingfield - Put Your Arms Around Me
Marie Digby - Say it Again
Common - Come Close
Jason Mraz - I'm Yours
Incubus - Echo
Jack Johnson - Banana Pancakes
Boyz II Men - On Bended Knee
Dashboard Confessional - As Lovers Go
Finley Quaye - Dice
Tanto Metro & Devonte - Everyone Falls in Love Sometimes
Mariah Carey - Ill be Loving you Long Time
Plain White Ts - 1, 2, 3, 4
Ashlee Simpson - L.O.V.E.
Ashlee Simpson - Never Dream Alone
Bow Wow ft Ciara - Like You

Single and Lovin it Mix - You're all you need!

Kelis - Bossy
Ne-Yo - Miss Independent
Katy Perry - I Kissed a Girl
Britney Spears - Touch of My Hand
Ashlee Simpson - Boys
Beyonce - Single Ladies
Britney Spears - My Prerogative
Black Eyed Peas - My Humps
City High - Caramel (remix)
Eve - Who's That Girl
Adina Howard - Freak Like Me
Nelly Furtado - Maneater
Pink - So What
Britney Spears - If You Seek Amy
Fall Out Boy - I Don't Care
Beyonce - Me, Myself, and I


Hate That I Love You Mix - You used to Love them, Now you Hate them (you think), either way, you can't' stop thinking about them

Miley Cyrus - 7 Things
Rihanna ft Chris Brown - Hate That I Love You
Chairlift - Bruises
Duffy - Stepping Stone
Amy Winehouse - Tears Dry On Their Own
Mariah Carey - Heartbreaker
Tegan & Sara - Back In Your Head
Bright Eyes - Lover I Don't Have to Love
Bush - The Chemicals Between Us
Alicia Keys - Like You'll Never see me Again
No Doubt - Running
Janet Jackson - Again
Kanye West - Heartless
Kanye West - Bittersweet Poetry
Lady GaGa - Brown Eyes
Little Boots - Stuck on Repeat
Mariah Carey - We Belong Together
Monica - So Gone
Ne-Yo - So Sick
SWV - Weak
No Doubt - Happy Now?
N'Sync - Gone
Paramore - I Caught Myself
Duffy - Mercy
Katy Perry - Hot n Cold
Timbaland ft Patrick Stump (FOB) - One and Only
Prince - When Doves Cry
Taylor Swift - The Way I Loved You
Bow Wow - Outta My System

The Afterglow

Have you ever known someone and then not talked to or seen them for a while and then, when you do see them again, they just seem... broken?  (I'm talking several months or years, not just days or weeks.) And it just seems like something has changed this person - a serious life event or maybe just the passing of time - to the point where they're just not the same as you remember once knowing them? You're hoping they're going to be the cheerful, hopeful, fun person that you remember and instead, there's just an awkward shell.

I went to Boston a few weeks ago and I saw Jon for the first time in at least 6 years. The last time we saw each other was about a year after we had broken up and we told each other how well the other looked, how great it was to see them and how they were doing. But then... everything changed.

He came inside Erin's apartment and could barely meet my gaze. When we got in the car and we were catching up he just seemed cold, pre-occupied, distant - not because of me, but something deeper. The conversation just didn't seem natural. Something just wasn't right, like a light had been turned off inside him; the flame of the young, bouncy, fun loving boy I knew when I was 19 years old had vanished. Sure people grow up and age and mature but that wasn't it. That wasn't how I knew him. He had never been awkward. He had always been outgoing and able to make friends in seconds and talk on an array of topics with passion and intensity. We had shared two years together filled with adventures and intelligent moments and philosophical pondering, intimacy, giggling, expanding our minds with drugs and research chemicals and loud electronic music. Maybe we weren't friends in the technical sense anymore but we still knew each other... didn't we?

Inside the club we got some drinks and caught up some more, saw old friends and bopped our heads to the music and he didn't dance. It was the first time I'd ever seen him just not immerse himself in the beats, feel the rhythm, see the way it let his body flow and ebb like a river. That had always been my favorite thing to do: watch him dance. He always looked so alive; each bass line controlling him like a marionette. At some point a girl had come up to him and talked to him and when she walked away he told me, "That was my ex.... She ruined my life." I laughed because I could relate.

He told me whenever I was ready to go, he was too, so I said I was ready and we left. We drove around in the late, dark night of Cambridge, looping through supermarket parking lots and idling at red lights. He asked me to come back to his place and cuddle and I obliged (even after he had told me earlier he was dating a really great girl - but they were in an open relationship which apparently he didn't abuse the privilege of). Once inside, he told me the story of his ex and I could see the pain, the emptiness so much clearer now. Could see how broken this girl had made him. He was always the nicest, most non-confrontational person. Everyone loved him and he loved all. He made friends with anyone and everyone. And yet, this girl turned his life upside down in such a malicious manner. I couldn't wrap my head around how anyone could ever do that to someone like him. We climbed up into his loft bed and he put on a wave light. I laid down 6 inches from him on his mattress and then, without warning, he pulled me close into him, sending me back in time.

It's so weird to think that someone who you used to kiss and hug and hold and love and make love with still exists when they're not in your life anymore. Even stranger still, when you reunite with this person and they touch you, it just feels like second nature. You can recall the way this person has stroked you in the past, the softness of their lips, every curve of their body, every scar and birthmark. And yet, he still allows you a bit of modesty to change your pants in his room while he waits outside even though he could probably close his eyes and still remember you naked. We laid in bed together, skin on skin, his arms around me spooning me from behind and suddenly, there it was - he was back. He slipped into this voice that I always remembered him using with me: soft, sweet, childlike. "I'm so glad you stayed", he whispered in my ear as he kissed my shoulders. I playfully bit him on the arm like I used to and he held me tighter, snuggling into my back. That bed became a time machine for the night.

In the morning, we woke up and were back to square one. He let me change in peace and drove me back to Erin's place. We gave a quick hug and waved goodbye and said how nice a time we had had and how it had been so good to see each other once again. I wish I hadn't had to lie. I wish I hadn't had to see him that way - vacant eyes and lost inside. It really pained me to see him so different and broken. But at least for that one moment at night, we were able to relive the past and put our present aside.

Like Crazy

A few weeks ago I had gone to see "50/50" and a trailer played for this movie during the previews:

 It's called "Like Crazy" and it's about a couple who meet and have a long-distance relationship. Having dealt with my own trials and tribulations in that area, I knew immediately that I had to see this movie. So yesterday as part of the Philadelphia Film Festival, I went and watched this film that was the darling of "Sundance" this year.

Anna is an exchange student from England who meets Jacob in college a few months before graduation. We start out seeing how their relationship begins and then how it's ultimately torn apart by her Visa issues banning her return to the US; both struggling to hold onto their love at so many thousand miles away. It's at this point that the movie begins to emit a feeling that perhaps only those of us who have been in a long-distance relationship can really relate to.

In one of the reviews I read for the film online, the viewer said that they felt a certain disconnect between the characters; that they were annoyed that the relationship is just given to them in bits and pieces, scenes of fun times the couple spend together laughing and playing, and that there's never any strength in the development. Well, that's kind of the point. There's never any progression of their relationship because there never can be while they're on two opposite sides of the globe.

While visiting Anna for the first time in England, Jacob complains "I don't feel like I'm a part of your life. I feel like I'm on vacation" and Anna laments how hard it is for them to keep always starting and stopping. That's how long distance relationships wind up working out unfortunately. You're always stopping and starting, having to pick up where you last left off; not just physically, but emotionally as well. You really do just feel like you are always on vacation, that you're not a permanent fixture in that other person's life. You don't get to experience their daily routines, hang out with their friends and family, to really nurture and grow that bond between you because you are always leaving. Perhaps I related to this movie most of all because, while Anna and Jacob are separated, they are basically going on with their own lives - moving forward in their careers, seeing other people while still having a deep emotional connection with each other inside - and that's basically how my relationship with Emmett played out.

Other films I've watched about LDRs have the characters frequently Skyping and texting or emailing, but sometimes when you're both in areas with such extreme differences in time zones, it's better to just stop trying to make it work after awhile. This is essentially what happens with Anna and Jacob. In the beginning they are trying to get their times synced; One night while out at a bar, Jacob calls Anna, who herself has just come home and is already in bed and he wakes up her. In another scene, Anna is leaving Jacob a voicemail and struggles to figure out what time 5 PM her time would be in his time so that they can talk in real time. While Jacob is able to come visit on a few occasions, the relationship is stunted because Anna can't reciprocate as she cannot enter the US due to her previous Visa ban. Anna's father jokes at dinner that maybe they should just get married and solve the issue altogether, but they brush it off as they are both still young and growing.

The most gripping part of the film for me was when Anna calls Jacob crying while he's out with his new girlfriend. She tells him that she loves him and can't live without him; he's the only one who understands her, understands how she thinks and feels, and no one else gets it. I started bawling because that's exactly how I feel with Emmett. No one gets me like he can, no one else can ever possibly understand like he can. Then, she says that they should just do it. They should get married so she can get the Visa and come back to America. Jacob agrees and heads off to England where they get married. According to Anna's lawyer, they will only have to wait six months after the wedding and they will be able to get her the spousal Visa needed to come to America. Unfortunately, because the issue with Anna's Visa came from the Student office, the judge cannot grant the marriage visa until they lift the ban. And so, the couple must part ways and live apart once more. They both return to the partners they were seeing in the meantime and going on with their lives, their marriage on the back burner.

Eventually, the day finally comes where the ban is lifted and Anna is able to travel to America. But at this point, so much time has passed, it's as though Jacob and Anna have become strangers. In the final scene, Anna arrives at Jacob's loft and everything seems so awkward, as they're unsure how to interact with each other now that Anna is here for good. Anna decides to take a shower at Jacob's apartment and he joins her. While they try to embrace and kiss, to rekindle their romance and enjoy this monumental moment that they had been waiting so long for, both are at quite a distance with each other emotionally. It's a complete contradiction to the affectionate wedding night scene between the two that we witness earlier. Suddenly, Anna walks out of the shower, leaving Jacob under the running water and the film ends.

The audience started laughing, perhaps out of discomfort, with a sense of 'That's it?? That's the end??", but I don't really think that anyone fully understood the meaning of that scene. Jacob and Anna had built this relationship up so much, they had worked so hard to fight with the Visas, to eventually be together, that - at the point when they finally got to be together for real - they just weren't sure that was what they wanted anymore. I completely understood because that's been my biggest fear. That if there were ever a moment where Emmett and I got to finally be together in the same place, at the same time, would I still want it? Would the feeling still be the same?

Or was it better to just always be on "vacation"?

Time Flies...

A lot can happen in two years. It doesn't seem like a very long time when you think about it, does it? It's only 730 days, 104 weeks, 24 months. But in that span of time, things can change drastically.

Two years ago, I was interviewing for my current job; now, I just interviewed for 2 other positions back home.

Two years ago, my hair was shorter and lighter and I was (at least) 20 lbs heavier. Now my hair is long and sleek and I am svelte and hungry.

Two years ago, Emmett and I met for the first time. We were sharing smiles and laughs and kisses and pizza. Now, we're not even speaking and I'll probably never see him again.

Two years ago, I was a lot happier. As miserable as it was living at home and working a dead end job, life wasn't going quite so bad for me at all this time two years ago. And from that point until now, I have had nothing but a rollercoaster of high highs and low lows.

......


"New York is not just a tan that you'll never lose... The tan of New York never goes away." - Lady Gaga


I watched this interview with Lady Gaga recently and she is just so passionate about her love for New York in exactly the same way that I am; it was so refreshing. I was home this weekend and there was just something so fitting, so easy about walking the streets and driving the roads. I stood on a corner outside of Grand Central station and watched at least two dozen tourists take pictures of the Chrysler Building. I stood in line for street meat and had a guy tell me he just moved from Oklahoma and was about to eat his first New York hot dog - and I had another person ask me what a knish is. New York, that's what makes me happy.

There is just something magical about that city that draws people there from all over the world: tourists, wanderers, vagrants, people looking to start over, to be someone new. As big and scary as New York looms to be to those who are freshly here, it soon takes you in with open arms and wraps you up inside itself. Even those who proclaim to hate New York, deep down secretly suppress their love for that great city. 

So why did I think that I could do that in Philadelphia? This is just not the kind of place you move to start over and be someone new. It doesn't have that vibe, that sparkle, that same welcoming appeal. I have been cursed at and called names by homeless people, had racial and sexist slurs slung in my direction, battled countless bugs, awful weather patterns (extreme snow and relentless heat), atrocious drivers, ear-wrenching accents, horrendous traffic, ridiculous liquor laws, overly confident sports fans and of course, had lovely interactions with my oh-so-considerate neighbors. 

........

I'm trying to move back home, trying to get a new job and hopefully trying to regain the happiness that I lost when I moved to Philadelphia. I am trying to separate myself from Emmett, separate these feelings for him that have been consuming me for the past two years. They have weighed heavy on me, weighed me down, held me back at times. Our whole relationship (or whatever it was) was the worst roller coaster of all, and has taken an extreme toll on me emotionally. I hate that I have grown to resent him and obsess over him because we have grown so distant in the past six months. I feel like these feelings have made us turn on each other. For as loving as we once were, I feel like we are back to back with our guns at the ready, ready to just expel the other from our lives once and for all. And in spite of everything that made us great together, maybe he's been my Philadelphia. Maybe I thought he could be the person to help me start over and it turns out that after all this time, he's not....

But I'm really hoping that in the end, he turns out to be my New York. 

I do.

I have always been proud to be a New Yorker, but I have never been prouder to declare it then today.

I have always been Bisexual, but I have never been prouder to declare it then today.

Today is a historic day. New York State passed a bill 33-29 that legalized gay marriage.

Upon hearing that the vote was pending last week, I spent this entire week on edge; constantly checking news media for updates on whether or not the Senate had yet reached a decision. And of course, tonight, while I am napping, I wake up to find that the amazing news I have been waiting for has finally arrived. I literally jumped out of bed, started crying, began jumping up and down in my room shouting HOORAY! and clapping. Shaking. Overwhelmed with emotion. Grateful that this day had finally come for members of the Gay and Lesbian community who fought so long and hard for this right.

This is not just a step towards equality for all, this is a GIANT. FUCKING. LEAP.

To all the Homophobes and the haters and the Religious zealots and the doubters:

FUCK YOU - We're here, we're Queer, get fucking used to it already! We're not going away. We are not going to stop our fights. This achievement is only going to make us fight harder, push stronger and make it known that we will not let anything stand in our way. We will not stop trying to make sure that Gays & Lesbians everywhere get the rights that they deserve. To ensure that the Gay youth have a future that they can look forward to without hiding in the closet, without having to hide who they are, without worrying about being bullied or denied a job based on who they choose to love or being denied basic domestic benefits because they just happen to be in a same sex relationship. We are all human; we should all be treated the same.

Hopefully one day soon, we can all emerge from our naps and jump up and down with excitement as we celebrate the victory for the legalization of Gay Marriage in other states, the entire United States of America, and all over the world.

Love is Love. Equality for All. I can't wait to see the pictures from Pride this weekend in NYC. It won't just be a celebration, it will be a god damned victory march!

Tadaima. (ただいま)

Tadaima is a Japanese phrase meaning "I'm back", "I've returned" or "I'm home". One year ago today, I found myself stepping off a plane once again at Narita Airport, ready to embark on a whirlwind, three week adventure in which I saw incredible things, met amazing people and made some of the best memories of my entire life.

I wish that reflecting on this day could be a little more upbeat. With great sadness, almost three weeks ago, the world witnessed the massive earthquake and tsunami that devastated parts of northern Japan. I had been reluctant to talk about it until now because there were just so many emotions running through me: Fear that worse disasters could occur as the instability at the Fukushima Dai-Ichi power plant held the attention of the international media outlets, keeping watchers on edge that another Chernobyl might be occurring in the wake of two natural disasters. Sadness for the Japanese people, who I had come to know the warmth and kindness of, as they watched their homes and lives become destroyed in minutes, their families and friends lost in the wreckage,  the outcome of their futures suddenly uncertain.Worry for my friends within reach of the earthquake zone and the potential field of radiation that could spread in the event of a nuclear meltdown, who still are dealing with daily aftershocks, food shortages, rolling blackouts and minimal panic. (I still am finding it hard to truly put all my thoughts and feelings on everything into words, so please forgive me.)

Many of my relatives who know how strong my love for Japan is sent me messages of concern: asking if any of my friends in Japan are ok, telling me that they are glad that I was not there this year and wondering, do I still want to go to Japan? The answer to that question is yes. In fact, I want to go to Japan more than ever before. (And furthermore, on my first visit to Japan, there was both an earthquake which I could feel small aftershocks from in Tokyo - a completely foreign experience for someone raised on the east coast - and a typhoon.) Watching the events play out and seeing the scenes of both despair and hope, tales of heroism and sadness; I just wanted to grow myself to giant size, walk across the globe, and scoop the entire island of Japan up into my arms and keep everyone safe from further harm.I wanted to instantly be there helping the victims, giving them food and water and warmth and shelter and hope, helping them rebuild their homes and villages, buildings, roads and highways, helping restore the beauty of the Japan that I have come to know and love.

The disaster in Japan was just as emotional for me as September 11th had been almost 10 years before. And both events have strengthened my love for both places (Japan and NYC) which I hold intimately dear in my heart. I remember on September 11th refusing to go to bed, refusing to turn the TV off until they showed footage of the first plane hitting the Twin Towers. In the same way, post-earthquake & tsunami, I clung to Twitter alerts, Huffington Post updates, CNN news (and not just because Anderson Cooper and Sanjay Gupta are so damn handsome). It's interesting to think how much technology had changed since then. Can you imagine if September 11th had occurred in the time of Facebook and Twitter and the 24 hour news medium? If someone had tweeted that a plane had struck the WTC? If people had posted status updates that they were ok and safely out of the buildings? YouTube'd videos of the buildings collapsing within minutes? Luckily with these technological advancements, when I woke up at 5 AM on the morning of Friday, March 11th and saw a Huffington Post alert on my iPhone that a 8.9 magnitude Earthquake had struck Japan, I was able to go on Facebook and see that all my friends had updated their statuses to say that they were safe & check my Twitter feed to see that there had also been a massive tsunami following the quake - with retweets from friends relaying news from various other bloggers and media.

So, today I will take this time to reflect on those great times that I had only 365 days ago and know that soon enough, I will be able to say Tadaima once again to a newly rebuilt Japan, a Japan that will only grow stronger and more beautiful from this tragedy, and make many, many more memories.And Japan will reach out to me with open arms, hold me close and say Okaeri! (お帰りなさい)

HATE//love

I got a little lazy and dug up an old blog post from another of my blogs, but it's still relevant - so enjoy!


HATE

Rene Descartes viewed hate as an awareness that something is bad, combined with an urge to withdraw from it. Baruch Spinoza defined hate as a type of pain that is due to an external cause.Aristotle viewed hate as a desire for the annihilation of an object that is incurable by time.Finally, David Hume believed that hate is an irreducible feeling that is not definable at all.

In psychology, Sigmund Freud defined hate as an ego state that wishes to destroy the source of its unhappiness. In a more contemporary definition, the Penguin Dictionary of Psychology defines hate as a "deep, enduring, intense emotion expressing animosity, anger, and hostility towards a person, group, or object." Because hatred is believed to be long-lasting, many psychologists consider it to be more of an attitude or disposition than a (temporary) emotional state.

........

Hate is perhaps the worst 4 letter word in the world. Worse that "shit", "cunt", "fuck", "twat".... Hate carries with it more meaning, more force, more of a curse than any of those other words. To truly hate someone, to feel hatred towards another person, is the strongest, most intense feeling one can have.... almost as intense as love. And unfortunately, sometimes love can lead to hate....

There is one person in the world that I can say that I truly hate. The feeling is so intense that it becomes consuming... Every time I think of him, what he's done, what he continues to do, it makes me physically ill. I wish I could just punch him, kick him, hit him in the face with a baseball bat, run him over with my car & then put it in reverse and run over him again (but oh wait, my car is too low to even make it through the car wash, so how could I run him over?) 

He ruined my life and yet continues to exist unscathed. Because of him, I had to be re-medicated for my anxiety disorder; I lost a job, I lost friends, I lost the respect of my parents, I ruined my credit, I basically flushed thousands of dollars down the toilet, I had to file for bankruptcy, and I was on the verge of admitting myself to an institution and ending my life on several occasions because he made me hit rock bottom....I thought that was the only way out from the life of hell I was living.... the scars exist on my arms and remind me constantly of the pain that he put me through and continues to put me through today.... I will NEVER forgive and I will NEVER forget. I HATE YOU. 

.........

LOVE

I am trying to pull myself together though - trying to move on and start over. It's a slow but steady process... I managed to find someone else who is going through the same thing, who is basically the same person as me - my missing twin, and me and her are getting through this together... 

I want to be able to feel again one day, to not live in fear of being hurt, to not put up a wall that you will never be able to scale. I want so badly to love again, to love the purest kind of love... and for someone to love me the way I deserve to be loved. Love is another horrible four letter word, for once it leaves your lips, it can never be taken back. It carries with it such force, it can change your life forever. The next time I say the word "love", it's going to be for real, it's going to be life changing, it's going to be wonderful, and it's going to be forever. 

.............

I just want you to know that I have all this baggage, and I hope it doesn't scare you away. I want to kiss your sweet lips over and over, and feel your body against mine, your heart beating rapidly in my ears... I wanna fit right in that space underneath your chin with your arms around me because you're tall, and wrap my arms around you too. I wanna come up and hug you from behind and lay my head on your back and listen to you breathing. I want to look at you while you're looking at me and smile and not speak because we both know just from a look. I just wanna see you smile and know that smile is there because of me. 

Sometimes there are so many things we want to say to someone, we find it hard to put them into words. Feelings are sometimes so impossible to vocalize - and sometimes, you're not quite sure how. This is how I get out my feelings: I write. That's who I am. I'm a writer. I could put into prose every little heart flutter and nervous sweat that you build up inside me, yet never be able to bring myself to tell you how I feel aloud. So I'll just sit there and bite my lip and wonder....

Miss Misery

In case you weren't already aware (and sorry to put it so bluntly) I fucking hate it here in Philly. It makes me miserable. There is just something about living in this area: the traffic, the erratic and reckless driving, the awful accents (South Philly and the borderline southern redneck ones), the sport fans, the lack of culture and diversity, the lack of decent pizza, the bizarre and atrocious liquor laws, the people... I could go on about it all day.

Ok, yes, I know, being a total New York snob, I'm probably not giving this place much of a chance. But there is just something in the air here that makes me feel like I'm sticking out like a sore thumb. I drove home this weekend and as I drove deeper and deeper through Jersey towards the George Washington Bridge, I could feel the calm wash over me. And as I hit my stretch of I-95 from the Bronx all the way up through Connecticut, something clicked: I was home.

I spent all day Saturday soaking in the essence of New York City: Riding the 6 train and people watching, looking longingly over Japanese fashions in the FIT museum, walking those long city streets, eating in a cute little restaurant in Greenwich Village, sipping delicious drinks with friends in an underground speakeasy, watching the Yankees play on TV in an Irish pub, mingling with the masses in Times Square. From the Bronx, into Manhattan, rounding the night out in Queens - where I hope to live in when I move back to NY next year, pointing out bars and restaurants I've already tagged on a Google map to acquaint myself with my future neighborhood - and back to the Bronx, I felt wide awake in the City that Never Sleeps.

And then I had to drive back to PA today. Despite the weather being beautiful compared to the torrential rain I drove up to CT in, a pit just sank deeper in my stomach as I got closer and closer to this place that I am currently calling "home". New York just makes me feel so alive. My life constantly feels like one of those video games where a little line is in the upper right corner, monitoring your character's health. Every day that I am here, those green lines slowly start fading into yellow and then dangerously close to red. But going home re-energizes me, and those green lines are all filled up again.

...........

Being alone in this city doesn't help, either. Emmett is gone, away having the most amazing experience of his life and I can't even compete with that. That just makes me more miserable. Between crying over him and crying over being stuck here, I should seriously invest in Kleenex stock. I just wish I could be with him, watching him be happy and being happy together, smiling this smile I swear he only smiles for me that makes me melt. I'm happy for him but I suppose jealous in a way, too. I had hoped Philly would be the same enlightening, life changing, eye opening experience; a way to turn my life around and start over from the awful stand-still spot it was stuck in, just like he's doing now. (I also hoped that moving here would mean we'd be closer and together.) And again, I know people will say I'm not giving this place enough of a shot, but I shouldn't have to force it. I shouldn't have to force myself to enjoy it here or to feel an emotion about this place that doesn't exist and probably never will.

I hate being the silly, crying girl who worries all the time. I hate feeling clingy and awful and miserable and don't want to bring everyone else down so I don't talk about it. I hold everything inside, which I guess makes me even more miserable. I am trying to distance myself from the obsessive and longing feelings that I have for Emmett. I put away pictures of us and keep trying to stop thinking about him and how great he is and the little things that he does that make me smile, the memories of us that make me smile. I am trying to push past this wave of emotion and outrun it - to move beyond this intangible relationship that will never happen, to move beyond feeling like I'm not good enough when it has nothing to do with me, to move beyond thinking that he never thinks about me and doesn't care because I am always thinking about him and I always care - all I do is think and care. I need to just lock all that part of my life up in a little box and throw away the key. Otherwise, it will continue to consume me and eat away at me and completely devoid my life of the happiness that I am not allowing myself. (In that aspect of my life, anyway.)

And so, everything I built up in my head, these fictitious scenarios about the future stemming from our real life interactions and conversations; I have to break them down slowly brick by brick and start to lay the mortar around my heart and move those cinder blocks back to rebuild the wall that had been up for so long before I met him.

.........

you make me come
you make me complete
you make me completely miserable


...........

Its so hard to let go, but sometimes love isn't enough of a reason to keep on hanging on.